In that dark the night was alive with the dead. Crisp leaves, dragged by the wind, scraped themselves across the pavement, clattering like skeleton bones. The air was electric. Anticipation. Her silhouette could have appeared from around any corner, behind any tree. My heart raced and the howling wind whipped my hair across my face, tickled my lips.
By the time I entered the building and blinked against the bright lights, my hands trembled.
The elevator chimed and that one thought, that solitary, dangerous, forbidden idea slipped peacefully back into the shadows of a dream.